Hermione Or Henriette?
by PhlegmaticLenna
Summary: The first day of summer before Hogwarts, Hermione's very muggle life is capsized when she learns she is not a Granger, but a Delacour – and even more, a witch. Things just get more complicated from there out.
1. Prologue

_This is my attempt on the oft-used 'Hermione is a pureblood' fanfic. To make things more interesting, I've related her to the Delacours. Know that I do not speak French – I'm going to struggle through some of the dialogue and may have poor grammar. Please correct me in the review section if I get anything wrong, or if you have any suggestions for plot, tone, canon discrepancy, or anything!_

One might think a girl like Hermione would loathe the idea of summer. One might think her whole world was based around learning, pride, grades, and books, all the things you found at school. Without it, she must be lost!

Indeed, she was. But only for an hour or so.

With seemingly infinite time, a very large library, and two very smart parents she could learn on her own schedule. A schedule that at the moment was made almost entirely of reading at that very large library.

She'd taken with her a thermos of tea – the librarian knew she'd never spill a drop – and two dollars for the vending machine. Her parents had once made the uncharacteristically foolish decision to install monetary rewards for good grades. In her piggy bank at home sat many more dollars than two. Enough, perhaps, to buy every kind of candy in the vending machine. She was much too rational for that though. You'd have to be pretty stupid to blow all your money on a boatload of candy, right?

Maybe there was a bit more than rationality to it. She'd only been sitting a moment when she forgot she had any money in her pocket at all, or a thermos of tea on the bench beside her. There was only _A Brief History Of The London Underground_ in her mind.

So she didn't see the short, slightly plump man walk in, though near everyone else in the library found their eyes drawn to his strange clothing. She ought to have seen him, as he was concerned with her. He spoke briefly with the librarian in a hushed, polite tone and she with the same directed him toward her. His face too on a true, happy smile for a moment, before he regained his composure.

"Hello there." Said a French-accented voice, drawing her from her book. "Are you Hermione?"

Hermione looked up to see a foreign man, short and slightly plump, with a pointed black beard, like a villain in one of the old cartoons. She nodded silently to his question.

He smiled at her. "I am Augustin Delacour. I would like to speak to you. Would you come with me?"

Hermione considered. At ten years old, she thought herself to be very much mature. People should be given the benefit of the doubt, to a certain degree of safety. At the same time, she was ten years old, well informed of 'stranger-danger', and in current company of a strange French man with a pointed black beard who wanted to take her away somewhere. Perhaps all of this would be acceptable, had that strange French man not also put his hand on hers in a rudimentary attempt at comfort and familiarity. With surprising deftness for a ten-year-old bookworm, she kicked him hard in the shin and sprang from the bench, yelling "Fire!" at the top of her lungs and running for her parents.


	2. Chapter 1: The Unsafe House

Augustin didn't really know what he'd expected. Not that, certainly. Maybe he was expecting his daughter to burst into tears, knowing her father as she saw him, and maybe he'd cry a little too and he'd take her home and his little Fleur would put ribbons in her hair and call her Soeur as they taught her French. But, it would be a little absurd to expect that. All over too sentimental.

At the very least, he might have expected her to look at him curiously and nod. No, not enough nodding. Well, he ought not stay here kneeled on the ground. People were staring at him enough as it was after that little display and it appeared the librarian was considering calling security, or somebody to do the same job.

He tipped his hat to the woman on his way tidily out. Plainly, he had nothing near the beauty of his wife, but a Delacour possessed a certain charm and this Delacour a certain charmed cap. She smiled apologetically and put down her telephone.

He apparated back to the Granger residence once he was safely out of sight (and had steadied his composure as it should be).

The Granger woman greeted him at the door with a slight surprise on her face.

"Ah, Monsieur Delacour. Back so soon. Did you not find Hermione? You were so anxious to see her."

He brushed past her to the inside of the cramped house.

"The first meeting did not go as I planned it would."

The woman shut the door as she spoke. "Oh? So you agree then. I'd meant to stop you before you went, but once you heard her location, you merely disappeared. However did you manage that?"

He ignored her question as he continued on, heading somewhat indignantly for the sitting room, as she had not showed it to him.

"I think we will need to speak again. Hermione, that is. Henriette…"

"Yes." Said the woman, seeming to feel sympathy for him. "To have missed your daughter for nine years… I don't know what I would do if Hermione were to disappear on us. You must have felt so troubled when you saw her at last." She looked up at him. "Would you like a cup of tea, Monsieur?"

"Earl Grey." He said.

"Mm? I think we have that. Just a moment." She said getting up. He had forgotten muggles did not have elves. She must need to inform her servants the slow way.

The very slow way, in fact. He waited in the sitting room, full of strange muggle machines and fashions, for what seemed to be quite a while. When she at last appeared, she carried the set herself!

"The cup nearest you. Sugar in the tin, but I'm afraid we've run short of milk. Children go through it like water, you know? Do you," She hesitated, "Have any children, other than Hermione, I mean?"

"Yes." He said, "My little angel, Fleur. She has always wished for a little sister."

"They'll have to meet." Said the woman.

"Of course. They will meet very soon." He said.

They sat in silence for a moment, in their thoughts.

"So, what happened in the library? I ascertained you had met her."

"She assumed I was an enemy. I cannot blame her for that, I suppose, though I would expect a less severe reaction. What was I expecting?" His eyes teared up a bit. "I was expecting my little girl to know her Papa. So foolish."

Mrs. Granger could not help but feel for the man. And it was so amazing that when he finally found his daughter, he flew straight to England faster than his letter could reach. Incredible, really, both in devotion and time.

It would be good for Hermione to meet this man. Since they told her she was adopted at eight, it was clear she was both curious and a little melancholy. Perhaps she felt abandoned. That had cleared away now, but still, it would surely be good to know the man had searched for her far and wide and to finally know her origins.

The door opened very abruptly and both were stopped from their ruminations. Mr. Granger and Hermione walked in, the little girl with her usual pile of books. Hermione was a clever one. When she saw the man on the chair, having tea on her mother's fine china, it was clear he must not be the villain she originally thought him to be.

Then again, she might not be so clever after all, as her only comment was: "Oh. I'm sorry I kicked you." Before she went to her room to put down her books.

"Just a moment!" She called as she went along, relatively carefree.

"I didn't understand before. What did you want to talk to me about?"

Her mother sputtered slightly, but still said, "Hermione – and David – this is your biological father."

There was silence in the room for a moment.

Augustin tipped his hat. "Hermione. I am sorry. I was too anxious to see you at last. Please forgive me." He stood. "And please forgive me for all the years I could not find you. For the longest time, I gave up searching. I lost hope. My daughter. I am so sorry." He hugged her, but Hermione did not find herself able to pull away or hug back.

She could only think during the strange moment. The man looked nothing like her. And how had a baby from a French man made its way so far and become so lost for so many years. And above all – why did he have hope and why did he care?

Her parents said they had adopted her when she was only about a year old.

He patted her hair. It was strange.

"You look so little like me and your mother. I suppose you are what she might have looked like, if not for a certain gene she was lucky enough to inherent in almost full. You will have to meet her, Hermione. And your sister – her name is Fleur. She loves to fix hair; she could do wonders for you and have so much fun doing it. Would you like to meet her, Hermione?"

Everyone was staring at her.

"I – I suppose so." She said.

"Come." Said the man. "You can meet her at once."

"Now, hold on." Said her father. "This is all very sudden. And besides, Hermione has school in the fall to prepare for if she is to skip years, she can't be whisked away to France for a week or more."

"What school do you have her enrolled in?"

"R-riley. I can hardly see how that –"

"Oh, I course, I would not have heard of it. I expect it is a fine school, but not for her sort. You say she is planning to skip years?"

"Now hold on!" Ranted Mr. Granger. Mrs. Granger, who knew more of the story, also seemed to be getting upset. Hermione's eyes were very wide and confused.

"I have already ascertained she is my blood. I must give her the very best."

"Whatever do you mean?" Asked Mrs. Granger, with worry at the Frenchman's eccentricities.

There was silence for a moment yet again in the Granger house.

"I have much to explain to you. Let us begin," He said, pulling a thin piece of wood from his pocket, "With this."

Monsieur Delacour then proceeded to teach the Grangers everything they might need to know about magic.

Hermione went from confused and a bit frightened to ecstatic. Magic!

"But this explains everything!" She cried. "The books on the high shelf falling down, the lights when it ought to dark! I – I'm a witch! This is," She seemed to be on the edge of nervousness with excitement, "This is the most wonderful thing I can imagine! So I shall learn magic properly! I can do anything I like!" She turned to her parents, who were strangely pale. "Mum! Dad! Don't you see how wonderful this is? You'll never have to clean or garden or anything again! Well, once I learn my spells, that is. Don't you… ?" Her face seemed to droop with their silence, "Don't you understand?"

"I do, sweetheart." Said her father, subdued.

"Monsieur Delacour, I cannot help but feel you should not be telling us these things. You said 'muggles' as we are should not know – that your ministry of magic would not allow it but in certain circumstances. Are these those circumstances, Monsieur Delacour?"

The Monsieur had an unnervingly calm presence. "No, I am afraid not. It is Hermione whom I am telling these things. But do not worry. You won't face any trouble for this. Here, Hermione. Watch."

The man raised his wand again. Hermione smiled, ready to see more display – the brilliant fireworks he had made before, the animals, the funny movements of the furniture, or something even more amazing! She watched in anticipation.

David Granger opened his mouth to say something. "Don't point that glorified chopstick at me." He would have said. But he never did. He closed his mouth without a word. His eyes slowly closed and his breathing slowed and relaxed.

He and his wife fell asleep on the couch, calmly dreaming.

"They do not know about magic at all." Said Augustin.

"What do you mean?" Asked Hermione, confused. "Have you wiped their memoires?"

"Yes, quite." He said. "Wiped, clean. That is an excellent way of putting it. This way your parents will not break any laws and neither will I."

Hermione frowned. She did not like the idea of keeping secrets from her parents. And however was she to practice, or help them with her magic?

"Hermione. Your name is so hard to pronounce. Would you mind terribly if I called you Henriette? It was the name you had when you were so young."

"Ohwn-ree-ay?"

"Yes. It is spelled very similarly to your old name, coincidentally. H-E-N-R-I-E-T-T-E. Come, Henriette. With magic we can be in France in a moment. You can meet your mother and meet your sister when she comes home from her school."

"What about my parents?"

"They shall wake in a few hours, their memories clean. Don't worry about them. Come, Henriette." He said again, offering his hand.

She had always wanted to go to see the world. "Can they come here too?" She asked as she took his hand.

"No." He said, wrinkling his nose. "A muggle house is not safe."


	3. Chapter 2: Perfect Sister

She heard almost everything she knew about her sister the morning before Papa set off to bring her home. That information had been dissatisfyingly little. Her scant knowledge of the girl should have prompted curiosity, maybe a little apprehension. Or, especially for the only child of a wealthy family, jealousy. Displacement. These things did not happen in Fleur.

She'd grown up her whole life hearing about her little sister and hearing about how soon, very soon, she would surely be found and come back. Fleur, who'd grown up lonely, anticipated the moment with fervor. A sweet, perfect sister to play with. Fleur still had her dolls. She'd lost interest in them herself. Yet even yesterday, she still imagined having a little sister to play with. Today, she had learned Henriette preferred books. Books it was then. She and Henriette would read together in the library. Her interests had flown that far.

It would help that Henriette was smart. She would learn French so quickly that way. Fleur didn't know much English. She'd have worked so much harder in her classes if she knew her little sister spoke that language.

Maybe there was another reason Fleur was so fond of the idea of a sister. She was a little bit vain. Her mother had said to her one day that Henriette was one of the unlucky girls who didn't show much of the Veela gene. In fact, she had speculated: "She could not be nearly so lovely as Fleur." And her hair? A bushy brown. Since she'd heard, Fleur had learned to style hair. Her sister would have hair more beautiful than any girl. Fleur would make sure of that.

It was so unfair that she had to go to school this morning. She'd have liked to travel to England with her father to meet her little sister right away. And even if she couldn't, she'd want to spend the day getting everything prepared. Her room was not clean. Her hair was not styled. She had not purchased any books or ribbons or any other presents or things to impress her. At least, not recently. When she was very little, she liked to buy her sister dolls. Such a pity Henriette didn't really like them. Ten years old was still young enough for dolls, wasn't it?

"Fleur!" Came the sudden shout of her teacher. She blushed madly and quickly looked up.

Her teacher took a kinder look to her eyes and sighed. For however she had been behaving today, Fleur was usually one of her better students.

"Really." She said, "What on earth has gotten into you today? Half the time you're fidgeting madly, the other half you're in dreamland! I doubt you've learned a thing today. Tell me: what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Fleur's blush deepened. "I don't know, ma'am. Excuse me."

"The answer is a sleeping potion so powerful, it's called the Draught of Living Death, as we've been learning today in your potions class. Not that you need a sleeping potion, I'm sure."

Her classmates giggled as Madame Mélanger walked back to the front of the class to continue her demonstration. Fleur made up her mind to work much harder in class from now on. To avoid being ridiculed and – because wasn't Henriette a good student?

There was absolutely no anxiety in the pit of Fleur's stomach as she hurried out into the garden to meet her little sister. Beauxbatons had not offered exams yet, but Fleur had an excuse to go home, given the family event. The school was far more lenient with temporary absences than other schools could be. It had to be admitted that the Delacour's position might have something to do with it.

But Fleur had no more time for ruminations. She stopped, dead still. There was a little girl in the garden with bushy, brown hair. She was sitting in the grass beneath an oak tree, giggling as her Mama, sitting beside her, made fireworks for her out of sparks.

Suddenly, Fleur was nervous. Her mind could not think of a rational reason for it. But then, the little girl happened to look up at her. On seeing Fleur's face, Henriette's happy smile just got wider.

She stood and waved. Her strange muggle clothing had grass stains on the knees. Fleur was advanced enough to enchant them so they would not stain and would do so later.

For now, she hurried to her sister.

"Henriette!" She said, then quickly ran out of things to say. She could speak a little English, but needed a bit of time to think out her words. "It is good to meet you!" She said in heavily accented English.

"Fleur, right?" Asked Henriette.

She did not hug her or shake her hand, but Fleur did smile and nod.

"It is good to meet you too!"

Fleur again ran out of things to say, this time for a different reason. But she thought a little bit, as Apolline watched cheerfully from the grass.

"Do you… still like dolls?" Fleur asked bluntly the secret desire of her heart.

And there was nothing to be embarrassed of.

"Yes!" Cried Henriette.

"I'm so happy!" Fleur said, finding the words quickly. "I have so many things to show you and to teach you! Here," She said, suddenly serious. "Watch."

Fleur took her wand out of her robes while Henriette watched in curiosity and excitement, having already seen what Monsieur and Madame Delacour could do with the small instruments.

Fleur pointed her wand at the grass stains and flicked it delicately, saying "Scourgify!" The grass stains on Henriette's knees vanished.

She was much happier with that result than Fleur expected her to be. She shouted an exclamation of joy and jumped into the air. "This!" She said, "This is the most wonderful place I have ever been to!" And she quickly wrapped Fleur in a hug.

Fleur, after her moment of surprise, hugged her back. In the background, unseen to either, Apolline wiped a tear from her eye at the perfection of it all.

The rest of the afternoon was spent meeting Fleur's favorite toys, many not touched in years. Augustin and Apolline did not seem to mind Fleur spiriting Henriette away for this.

There was true happiness here and Fleur was so happy she had not gotten rid of her dolls when she felt she outgrew them. She and Hermione played for a very long time.

A human maid came into the room at lunchtime, carrying a tray of healthful food and a few sweets, all of which was quickly devoured. After that, more play, so by dinner time both girls with exhausted from running and shouting and emotion.

Dinner was a fine meal. The Delacours took to eating simply when not with guests, but today was a special occasion. The maid, whose name was Violetta, incidentally, had slaughtered a young chicken and helped the cook prepare it with a sweet apricot sauce. Aside from the main dish, there was also a hearty salad made with apricot, and bouillabaisse (Fleur's favorite dish, purchased specially in this occasion). For dessert, there was apricot-almond Claufouti and apricot sorbet.

"My," Said Henriette, "You must like apricots very much!"

Augustin chuckled. "Yes, we do. But the reason there are so many on the table is because they are in season and perfectly ripe. Many of the things you see on the table are grown on the property. We want to eat them while they are still so fresh and delicious."

Henriette nodded and continued to consume her sorbet, which she had liked to enough to request seconds.

"Is there some way to make food with magic? Why not use that?"

Apolline answered this one. "Unfortunately, not. Food is one of the things that cannot be created with magic. But Violetta and Agnés use magic when preparing the food in the kitchen. Everyone in the house, that is, with the ability, has some part in using magic to aid the growth of the trees and plants. Your Grand-mére is especially talented in herbology, as it is called. You should be able to meet her soon, and she will show you."

"I look forward to that." Said Henriette. She had not one more bite of sorbet before she had another question.

"How long will the sleeping spell you cast on my parents last?" She did not hesitate in asking the question. No one at the table knew how her mind had jumped to that from Herbology and her grandmother.

"I am not sure precisely." Said Augustin, "I believe it should have worn off a couple hours ago."

"Oh?" Asked Henriette. "Won't they be wondering where I am?"

"No, not at all. Do not worry about them, it has been taken care of."

"I see." Said Henriette, taking it in stride with her sorbet. "When do I go back?"

"To England, you mean?" Injected Fleur. "You don't have to, Henriette. You can stay here as long as you like. You will go to school at Beauxbatons in August with me. It is the most wonderful school! It is in a palace, even more beautiful than here! The name actually means 'beautiful wands'."

Henriette scrunched up her nose in thought. "Doesn't it mean 'beautiful sticks'?"

Everyone at the table laughed.

"Yes, if you have to be technical." Said Apolline. "Where did you learn that?"

"My mum and dad had me learn a little bit of French, because it is important to understand people. Not much, though. I learned some Spanish too."

"That's very good." Apolline commented. "Tomorrow, you will see a tutor to improve your French. We can continue your Spanish courses as well, but I think that should wait. Perhaps Spanish can be your extracurricular next year."

"Can you teach me magic?" Henriette asked.

Augustin and Apolline looked at each other for a moment. They seemed to almost hold a conversation together in the short look. Augustin spoke first.

"We can teach you some of the basics before you receive proper schooling in August. However, you must make a promise to your mother and I. You cannot tell anyone outside of this house about your lessons."

Henriette quickly agreed.

"Good." Said Apolline. "We can't start tonight, of course. But tomorrow, Fleur and Violetta can take you to purchase your wand. That is, if Fleur would like to accompany you." She looked at her elder daughter.

"Yes, I would love to, Mama! We can get all her school supplies and her robes. Maybe just have a little fun."

"That sounds wonderful, darling. I will have Violetta prepare for the outing. For now, it is very late. Though she has been trying to hide it, I think Henriette is very tired. Fleur, would you show her to the room she is to use and lend her one of your nightgowns?"

"Yes, Mama. Excuse us." She took Henriette by the hand and led her away, down the long hallway they'd gone through before. Though it was late, light still shone through the windows.

"Your room is right across from mine and the play room is next door to mine. The bathroom is there." She pointed. "Come with me here first, I want to find a nightgown that will fit you."

It was likely that any of Fleur's nightgowns would have fit Henriette. The girls were only two years apart and gowns such as hers were meant to be worn loosely anyhow. Fleur just wanted to pick the perfect nightgown for her sister, even if it was just one night. Once she was satisfied, she gave it to Henriette and sent her to the room for the night with it and a glass of water. Quite happy, she retired to her bed.

Hermione looked around the beautiful, well furnished room the Delacours had lent to her. The bed was enormous, a four-posted thing with drapery and near-endless fluffy pillows. All of it was decorated in a color conspicuously close to her eyes. The fine, detailed rug. The curtains on the bed and on the windows. The upholstery on the large wing-backed chairs. The stones around the fireplace. The accents for everything. And the clothes of all the beautiful doll on the uppermost shelf, near a music box and a vase of fresh flowers.

Something about that doll drew her eyes more than anything else in the room. It was very pretty for one, but that wasn't it. It wasn't a creepy doll, like the ones in movies with the strange eyes and the mouths that could open. It was fairly small, but seemed to be made of porcelain, with brightly painted eyes. The expression on its face was a calm smile.

Hermione wondered if it was the kind of doll you played with or the kind that was for display. She could ask Fleur tomorrow, she supposed.

But for now, she curled up on the impossibly comfortable bed and fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 3: Hello World

In the morning, Hermione took a short bath and again borrowed Fleur's clothes. Breakfast was in a sun-filled 'breakfast room' instead of the dining room dinner had been in yesterday. There were poached eggs, fruit, and toast. Hermione was allowed to have a little black tea.

During breakfast, Fleur made a list of the things they'd buy in town, getting help from their parents. Apart from Hermione's school things, they were also to pick up some sugar, flour, and pixie dust, the nonchalant manner of the last made her smile.

"We won't get your books yet. They sometimes change the list from year to year to keep up with the most recent information. We can still go book shopping for fun, though." Fleur told Hermione, who nodded happily.

"What classes do you take at Beauxbatons?" She asked.

"Hm. I'm afraid I don't remember my first year classes specifically, but you'll take the mundane Mathematics, French, Political Science, and Geography. When you're a third year you start taking World Prep – learn to pay taxes and all that. As for the magic courses, you'll take Potions, Charms, Magical Defense, Herbology, and Transfiguration. There are many elective course options, but I'm not sure which ones are available to first years. Brooms, Divination, Apparition, Alchemy, Enchanting, English, Spanish, Runes… you'll have to take Brooms, at least. It's only classified as an elective because many students are already educated in riding."

"I'm so excited I don't even know what to focus on. But, I'm afraid I don't know what most of those words mean."

"Oh!" Said Fleur, blushing. She must have forgotten Hermione was a muggle, or muggle-raised, technically. "Let's see… Herbology is the study of magical plants and their care. It's much more interesting than it sounds. Transfiguration is the study of changing objects. I can show you some now." She took out her wand and pointed at her spoon. With a movement and a word it turned into a flower and back again.

"That's so cool!" Said Hermione.

Fleur continued. "Divination is the study of magic methods to predict the future. It's a limited class, as some people might not have the talent. Don't let it get you down if you don't. The subject is too vague to be as useful as you might think. Apparition is the instant teleportation Papa used to take you from England straight to France. It is difficult magic, but very important! Alchemy is kind of like the combination of Potions and Chemistry. Enchanting is the study of making mundane objects magical. It's how you might expand your pockets to fit this." She pulled a full-size umbrella out of her pocket. "I always like to carry one around. Now, Runes. In product, it's very similar to Enchanting. It involves learning the Ancient Language and using it to certain effect. We use Runes and Old Magic to ward and protect our home, among other things. It can be very useful if you have a creative mind. And you know, Henriette, if there's any subject mundane or magical you'd like to study, you just have to say the word. Mama and Papa can arrange a tutor for you. I am being tutored in Magical Examinations, to find dangerous things or curses, and in the violin."

The younger girl seemed a little overwhelmed.

"On other subjects," Said Apolline, "We've retrieved your things from the home you had in England. You and Fleur will purchase new clothes and such today. When you return you can decide what to keep."

"Okay." Said Hermione. "But… " Her nervousness showed.

"Is it really alright for me to take all this? I suddenly feel so guilty. You are well off, I understand, but these things cannot be inexpensive. Tuition to a magic school? I just can't imagine."

"My dear daughter." Augustin said from across the table, reaching over it to take her hand. "We love you with all of our hearts. No price is too high if it may make you happy. No more of that talk."

Hermione nodded. It was all a little strange, but it was also comforting to feel so loved, even by people she hardly knew.

She finished her breakfast quietly. Violetta came into the room and announced the carriage was ready. The family had figured Hermione might not be ready for Port Keys, Floo Powder, or such things. Besides, in this way, she could get a view of the countryside.

The Delacour family owned two flying horses.

"They are tended to by Gavin, the stable boy." Said Fleur as Hermione squealed and grinned. "But you are always welcome to help out in feeding or anything else. The one on the right is Lune and the one on the left is Soleil."

"How ever do you tell them apart?" The two white horses looked identical to Hermione.

Fleur giggled. "Lune is a bit bigger – and livelier." As if on cue, the rightmost horse reared up and whinnied, ready to fly.

Gavin helped the girls into the carriage, then climbed onto the front step himself to guide them.

The inside of the carriage was mundane, but fine. The seats were covered in soft velvet and the windows had small curtains, pulled back and opened to see the gorgeous French countryside.

As they flew, Fleur explained the hiding enchantment on the carriage and pointed to interesting sights.

"Can we see the Eiffel Tower?" Asked Hermione.

Again, Fleur giggled. She seemed to do that an awful lot around Hermione. "Non – we are much to far south for that. But we can take a day trip to Paris someday. Perhaps Tuesday?"

"I would love that!" Said Hermione.

They arrived shortly, landing on a long, flat rooftop that seemed just made for these kinds of things. Gavin took off once the girls were on their feet, to return in a few hours. For now, they had the cobbled streets of Assezville – one of the smaller wizard settlements on the continent.

It was a calm day today, but would be busy on the weekends as shoppers mobbed the streets.

Violetta let the young girls wander, so long as they promised to meet her at the café near the landing strip in two hours and Fleur checked in by mirror every 30 minutes. She made her way to find the sugar and flour as well as purchase some items for herself.

Fleur and Hermione stopped by the potions shop first, picking up the pixie dust and a starter's kit for potions, as well as a few healing drinks and salves Fleur insisted Hermione carry around, "like a first aid kit".

Next, the luggage shop, which made carrying those potions much easier. Fleur purchased an expanded messenger bag for Hermione. Apparently, it could hold much more than the expanding enchantments Fleur was capable of. There were trunks and chests with entire rooms inside of them, but those were stupidly expensive for their worth. Hermione's messenger bag could simply carry a great amount at a small weight, nothing to shake a stick at. Of course, until she learned a summoning charm, it could be difficult to manage. She stored things she might need with urgency in the front pocket.

They purchased a Beauxbatons uniform at her approximate size. It could be altered later. In the same shop, which dealt exclusively with uniforms, they found Beauxbatons formal robes and winter wear. Shopping for summer clothing would be in a different shop and clothing for special occasions would be made personally.

"The wand store is next. It's best you are alone for that one, but don't worry. I'll wait right outside for you." Fleur indicated a bench.

Being alone in a strange place made Hermione a little nervous, but she nodded and went inside.

It was very dark in the shop, for all the blinds were closed. What looked like the 'Lumos' spell Madame Apolline had shown her was the only source of light, but it had grown dim. The counter was empty.

"H-hello? I mean… Bonjour? Le magasin est ouvert? [Is the store open?]"

No one answered her.

She puffed out a breath of air and crossed her arms. She wasn't frightened of a creepy, empty storefront. Hermione walked over to one of the windows and pulled up the blinds swiftly.

"Merde!" Hermione didn't know what the word meant, but did know it meant someone was there. An old man sitting in a chair had woken and was blinking at the light. His presence startled her.

"… Je suis désolé! Je n'avais pas l'intention… [I'm sorry! I did not intend…]" She stopped. She could not think of the word for 'wake'. Her French lessons had been such a long time ago.

"Je n'ai pas l'intention de quoi? Pour remonter les stores? Était-ce un accident? [Did not intend what? To pull up the blinds? Was that an accident?]"

"Erm."

The man looked at her. "Ah. My apologies as well. I did not realize you were foreign. You speak very well, albeit a little… well. Here for a wand, I assume? I get my greatest traffic later in the year. Most purebloods who can plan ahead don't come to old Ermine for their wands." He shook his head, as if berating himself, then slowly stood from his chair.

"What is your name, child?"

"Oh. Hermione Granger." He spoke very good English.

"Not a pureblood after all, then. But you're ten years old, aren't you?"

Hermione nodded. How could he have known that? Magic?

"Well, I was raised by the Grangers. My birth parents are Augustin and Apolline Delacour. They're helping me into the wizarding world."

"A Delacour? You must be Henriette by birth." The man seemed to be speaking to himself as much as her while he made his way around the counter. "Mm. You don't show much of the Veela gene, but I can see it. Not too long ago, your sister Fleur got her wand from me. I found it highly unusual that her parents might come here. It's the low blood part of town, you know, as they say?"

He suddenly leaned over the counter and looked her very seriously in the eyes. "Your parents are very good people Hermione. Many will try to tell you otherwise. Your father marrying Apolline was quite a scandal at the time and has only inconvenienced him. It goes to show they really know what love is."

Hermione scrunched up her eyebrows. "Why was it a scandal?"

"She is not fully human. For many, that is a great offense."

This only caused her eyebrows to scrunch further. "Why is that? From what I've been told, Veela are only different from humans in magic and physiology."

Ermine leaned away and smiled. "Yes. And that is how it should be. Now, about your wand?"

"I'm afraid I don't quite know what I'm looking for. I know very little of magic. My sister has told me longer wands are good for transfiguration."

"They are, but shorter wands are good for hexing. It all depends on what you want and what works for you. But don't worry about that; we have a better way to find a wand."

Ermine stared pointedly at her for a moment, than relaxed and stood, walking slowly to the shelves behind him, pulling down four boxes, one by one.

"I have a feeling," He set them before her, "One of these would be good for you. And I trust my feelings. Take one out and test it."

Hermione opened the box on the far right. Inside was a very dark colored wand without any decoration. She wasn't sure how to test it and looked up at Ermine.

"Not that one, then." Apparently holding it was good enough. She carefully put it back away, wiping her fingerprints on her sleeve.

The next was what appeared to be a cherry-wood wand. It was very thin and seemed to almost cut the air when she lifted it. A look from Ermine told her it too was incorrect, so she moved on to the third.

It was both long and thick, hefty to lift for a small stick. The wood was a plain brown, not even polished like the other two. Yet from it Hermione felt a warmth and a coolness. It made her draw in her breath.

Ermine smiled and put away the other boxes.

"We don't even have to check the last one. I guarantee that one's for you. A wizard always seems to find a wand right for him, wherever he is.

"If anyone asks you, that's a 10 ¾ vine wood with a dragon heartstring core. I was expecting a Veela hair with your heritage, but it just goes to show that you never really know anything in this business. It's all about the feeling, you see.

"Now, before you pay for that, I've got to do a little advertising. You'll need a holster for that eventually and I have many fine options available."

Fleur had said she'd need one and since the man was somewhat endeared to her already, Hermione agreed. She soon left the shop with a wrist holster and a fine vine wood wand fitted with an attractive ruby red handle meant to improve her reach. She'd need both hands if she wanted to draw it, but surely that could never be a problem.

Fleur was found outside, going over the list again and looking rather bored. She cheered up when she saw Hermione and even more as Hermione showed off her hand and accessories.

"Would you like to stop for lunch before we continue? I've already given Violetta a call while you were shopping."

Hermione realized how hungry she was. "Oh, yes please!"

The stopped at another café along the way to the bookshop, where Hermione ordered a distinctly French dish to experiment. They were almost through their meal when Hermione noticed some people at a table across the way were staring, pointing, and whispering in their direction.

"Fleur, what are those people staring at?" She asked.

Fleur pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, staring right back. "Us."

When they noticed Fleur noticing them, most of the group looked down. A boy, likely a little older than Fleur, however, did not. He stood and walked directly to their table, pulling up an empty chair.

"Mes excuses. Ma famille et moi nous demandions si la jeune fille est ici Henriette Delacour. Nous avons entendu les rumeurs Augustin finalement l'ai trouvée. Je pensais qu'elle doit être morte après toutes ces années, mais de près, je peux voir la ressemblance. [My apologies. My family and I were just wondering if the young girl here is Henriette Delacour. We've heard the rumors Augustin finally found her. I thought she must be dead after all these years, but close up I can see the resemblance. ]"

Hermione understood little of that. Despite his outwardly friendly nature, Fleur seemed upset.

"Oui. Elle est ma soeur. [Yes. She is my sister.]"

"Elle ne semble guère être une Vélane. C'est une honte, vraiment. Pour avoir son sang gâté et même ne pas être belle? Je me demande pourquoi Augustin chercha son du tout. [She hardly seems like a Veela. It's a shame, really. To have her blood spoiled and not even be beautiful? I wonder why Augustin searched for her at all.]" He looked at Hermione, not understanding she could not speak French at such a rate.

Fleur answered him, now more than upset. "Je suppose que les regards de ma sœur dépend de votre définition de la beauté. Pas quelque chose que j'attends quelqu'un comme vous pour être au courant. Ne vous gênez pas sur elle, Glen. On voudrait ne pas fatiguer votre tête avec des pensées. [I suppose the looks of my sister depend on your definition of beauty. Not something I expect someone like you to be aware of. Don't trouble yourself over it, Glen. One wouldn't want to strain your head with thoughts.]" All Hermione could get was that she spat out the last sentence rather roughly.

The boy wasn't fazed. "Bien sûr que non, cher Fleur. Je n'ai pas besoin de réfléchir à vos définitions de la beauté, ni personne d'autre. Nous ne voudrions pas que tout le monde rempli avec les filles de putes. [Of course not, dear Fleur. I don't need to think over your definitions of beauty, nor anyone else. We wouldn't want all the world filled with the daughters of whores.]"

Fleur was clearly furious, but because she could not think of anything clever to say, remained silent. The boy, whose name was Glen, stood and walked calmly back to his table.

"What was that about?" Asked Hermione. "Who was he? Someone from school?"

"Yes." Said Fleur through clenched teeth. "Just someone from school."

Hermione was not the best at gauging social interactions, but she could tell Fleur wasn't pleased.

"Is that really it?" She asked.

Fleur looked at her sister, then sighed. "No. That… abhorrent little boy insulted us. Walked over here just to insult us. If I were a little older, I could make myself so beautiful he would never dream of it."

"You mean, use your Veela powers? But… Fleur. I think that's a little wrong."

Fleur looked at her sister in curiosity.

Hermione continued. "After all, you explained to me it was a lot more than just styling your hair extra nicely. When it's strong enough it's practically mind control for most men and some woman. Giving him no choice isn't getting rid of the problem and it isn't moral either." She nodded resolutely.

Apolline had discussed this with Fleur a long time ago. Her conversation with Hermione reminded her of that. "You're right, Henriette. I'll need to find a way to solve this problem properly instead of waiting for and using Veela powers. Thank you for that, little sister."

Hermione smiled.

They moved on to the bookstore without further incident. Fleur had budgeted out a great deal for this area and they spent quite a bit on history books, instruction books, and reference books. Fleur had been able to dissuade Hermione from just picking up books she wanted to read. A book you only read once was better rented from the library.

They still had a little time before they'd need to head back to meet Violetta.

"Henriette." Fleur said. "I have a surprise for you. You don't have to take it, but you can if you would like to. Mama and Papa and I talked together before you woke up. They agreed it would all right for us to purchase a pet. What do you think?"

The answer was very obvious to both of them.

They made their way over to a magical animals shop. Owls apparently would have the greatest practical use, but thinking it over, Fleur already used her parents' owls and the school had its own owls allowed out to students. There might be a use to get one when they moved to live on their own, but such a time was impossible to think of now. Beauxbatons allowed owls and other birds, cats, kneazles, dogs, and rabbits, and could make special accommodations for any familiar. These were somewhat rare, Fleur told Hermione.

A Kneazle sounded like a wonderful animal, if she were lucky enough to find one that liked her enough to tolerate her being its 'owner'. They were much like cats, which Hermione was already fond of, with large ears and a lightly plumed tail. Most breeds had speckles or spots. Kneazles were magical creatures. They could detect distrustful people and guide a lost or disorientated owner home. They were also highly intelligent.

Hermione would have liked to have a kitten – so it could grow up with her and because kittens were very cute. Not Kneazle kittens were available. There was a _very_ large and fluffy full-grown Kneazle who nuzzled her hand when she held it out to him.

"He's perfect!" She cried.

"He's… large." Said Fleur.

"Oh, he's just big-boned." Truth be told, she could barely lift that cat, or cat-creature, who was large, fluffy, and maybe a little fat. That was all right. 'Fluffy' could go on a diet over the summer.

In the same store, they purchased collars, toys, and all other essentials. Fluffy learned quickly to sit in Hermione's enchanted bag in a place he could poke his head out and watch.

"Make sure he… er… doesn't go to the bathroom in there." Fleur said.

"Don't worry. Fluffy knows not to do that."

"Fluffy. Okay. Fine name."

Fleur paid for their things and began to guide her enraptured little sister toward Violetta and home. They'd have to pick up clothes another day. Perhaps in Paris. She was shooing Henriette out the door when something caught her eye. Or, rather, her ankle.

A thin white kitten had snatched at her stockings between the bars of its enclosure near the door. It mewled softly at her with wide eyes. Fleur, forgetting Henriette for a moment, bent down to pick it up. If cats could smile, she'd have sworn that one did.

She didn't even chastise herself for her weakness as she hurried to the front of the store to ask about the tiny thing. After all, her parents had offered to buy her a pet many times before and even if they hadn't, surely they'd make an exception for a familiar.

She named it Laverenza and set it on her shoulders.

Through all the excitement of the day, Hermione had forgotten to ask about the doll on the high shelf in her bedroom. Both were too exhausted and happy to think.


	5. Chapter 4: And A Perfect Life

Augustin and Apolline were ecstatic to see Fleur had found a familiar. Laverenza quickly became very popular in the Delacour household. She demanded to be brushed once a day and avoided clean clothes and furniture. Fluffy, on the other hand, shed on everything he happened to be in the same room as and seemed to take an instant dislike to Monsieur Delacour. He was quite the source of amusement for Apolline, hissing when Augustin entered the room and not allowing himself to be petted. He never swiped or spat, however.

During the days the pets settled into the house, Hermione began her first lessons. Every morning after breakfast and after Fleur styled her hair she would take her school things and head into the large family library. Madame Parler was a strict woman who only allowed Hermione to speak French in her presence, but nevertheless a good teacher. After two hours of French, she would say farewell for the day and take her leave. As Hermione could not be taught practical magic publically, Apolline took time out of her day to teach her. It was slow work, but within a week Hermione was able to levitate small objects, open simple locks, clean objects rapidly, and summon items.

Apolline wasn't much of a believer in wandless magic beyond summoning a wand. Apart from showing off, in today's world there wasn't much use for the practice, as magic with a wand was both easier and more powerful. Thus, she only had Hermione learn two wandless spells: to summon a wand and to make a light.

Silent magic, on the other hand, could be hugely useful day-to-day. There are many times one would want to use magic without disturbing someone nearby.

For Apolline living in France, the war was over. Fighting magic would be useful for self-defense, but her daughter didn't need to learn much beyond that. Though she didn't yet have the skill to learn them, within a few weeks Hermione was to learn a shield charm, a stunning charm, and the kind of ward magic necessary to break anti-apparition wards. She taught Henriette that it was far better to run and fight in better circumstances than to ever risk herself attempting to win a battle. Warding was the most useful magic she could learn.

After Apolline's lessons Hermione had lunch with Fleur, who had been taking lessons of her own, and a small break to play or read. Next was Politics and Culture, taught by Monsieur Warbreaker. He was a gentle-spirited teacher who encouraged Hermione to learn at her own pace. Under him, she learned Wizarding tradition and law and how to avoid offense.

After that, she was allowed personal study of any subject she wished, so long as it was studying and not merely reading. The subjects she looked into here varied. Some days she learned history to prepare for her school classes, sometimes she researched what kinds of magic were possible. Apolline told her there wasn't much use to studying Potions or Transfiguration at this time, since the very beginning of these subjects would be taught to her at school anyway. She might be ahead of the game, but her time could be better spent elsewhere. According to Apolline, even playing with Fleur in the garden was better-spent time.

Once she had finished her allotted time for personal study, the rest of the day could be spent relaxing and having fun. Fleur's lessons continued some time after Hermione's let out, so she had time to herself to read and practice the spells Apolline taught her. Once Fleur's session ended, the two girls would talk and play. Saturdays were nothing but reading and playing.

Come dinnertime, Augustin would return home. Meat or poultry on the table was rare. Mostly, they had a salad or soup than a main meal of some form of vegetables, whatever was fresh that day. Seasons didn't work precisely as they had for Hermione before: the magic used to grow the plants at an accelerated rate also had them ripened on peculiar dates.

During dinner she'd be questioned on the rate of her studies. Once the family was satisfied, conversation would turn to the days ahead. Grand-mére Juliet Belland was to visit soon. Thus far, she had been out of the country and unable to return. Grand-pére Belland, Hermione was informed had died some years ago as a result of his old age. All through dinner, her family spoke in French to help her learn the language fully as quickly as possible.

"You'll have to show her how far you have advanced in your studies. I'm sure she would be very impressed." Augustin said.

"I'd be happy to." Said Hermione. "How long is she staying? I'd like to learn Herbology so I can help with the plants."

"That's very good of you." Apolline smiled. "And she'll be staying at least a month. In our house, it is usual that family has extended visits. Perhaps next year you can spend an entire summer with her. Instant transport makes visiting you from here very easy."

"It is." Said Fleur. "I spent many summers at the villa when I was younger."

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. "What exactly is Grand-mére doing? If instant teleportation is available, why doesn't she stop in for a moment immediately? Or, why don't we apparate everywhere?"

"Many places aren't available for apparition. They're warded against it, for security. Otherwise, thieves, assassins, anyone could get in. Homes and government buildings are usually warded. Your school is. That's why it has dormitories instead of allowing students to instantly apparate home at the end of a day. If you are more experienced with warding, you can tweak it a little bit. Anyone of Delacour blood can apparate within the perimeter. Places where many strangers come or are otherwise diverse can't do that. The power and expertise required is impractical."

"I see. But," Hermione looked a little taken aback. "Muggle homes aren't warded in such a way, are they? Why can I not zip home to visit my parents for a little bit? You should be able to take me there with minimal effort, right?"

Augustin leaned over the table in a similar way to that he had done before. It did not hold the same comfort now.

"Henriette." He said, "We are your parents. Whatever are you talking about?"

Apolline looked concerned.

Hermione answered him. "I know that. I mean the set of parents who raised me. I'd like to see them. I've been having so much fun here, and learning so much, but it's been a long time. I'm a little homesick."

Augustin gripped her hands, not merely taking them. "This is your home. You are a Delacour and my daughter."

Fluffy entered the room, though he was forbidden from the dining room at dinnertime and hopped up onto the table. Not a moment later, Laverenza appear as well, hopping onto Fleur's shoulder to see what the commotion was.

"What are you doing in here?" Fleur said to her familiar, flustered. She stood and attempted to pick up Fluffy, who swatted at her to continue staring at Monsieur Delacour.

"Henriette," Fleur said, "Manage your Kneazle. You can't let him on the table, it's unclean." When Hermione turned away, Augustin only held her hands tighter. It almost hurt.

"Never mind that now. You understand, don't you Henriette? You never have to see those people again. You aren't a Granger, you understand? You're a Delacour. My daughter!" His voice had gone up in volume and it frightened Hermione a little bit.

Before she could say anything, Fluffy jumped onto their hands, biting down on Monsieur Delacour hard, breaking skin.

"Aah!" He said. "Wretched cat!"

"He's a Kneazle." Hermione whispered, pulling Fluffy into her arms.

"Doesn't matter. Just remember, Henriette. You are our daughter."

Hermione nodded. Fleur reached under the table to grab her hand, in the comforting way. She'd seen this side of her father before.

"Henriette." Said Apolline, who had sat through the entire thing in silence, "I'm sorry. You must not speak of those people again. We'll provide for you all the teaching and objects and love that you need. We're here for you sweetie. The muggles do not even remember that you exist."

"…What?!" Hermione looked up sharply, her fingernails biting into Fleur's hand.

"A memory charm." Said Apolline. "I can teach you about them tomorrow. They can be very useful when dealing with –"

"You used a memory charm on my parents?" Hermione faced Augustin, "To make them forget that I exist? I thought – I thought they just wanted me to get to know my birth family and learn about magic. I thought you asked them! You just took me away! People must be searching for me. They have databases in the muggle world and I have friends! You –"

"Henriette!" Said Apolline, "Please calm down. There's nothing to worry over. Your father is in the Ministry. He is used to making people dissapear. Please, eat your dinner. Agnés made this meal with such care, we must not waste it."

"You're worrying about dinner! Don't you see what this man has done! He manipulated memories! How can you trust him? Every time he makes a mistake or makes you angry, he can just wipe it away! How could I not realize? This… this…" Hermione's head was spinning.

"This man," Said Augustin firmly, "Is your father. And he would never dream about doing anything like that to his family." Fluffy, even in Hermione's arms, hissed viciously. "Do as your mother says. Eat your dinner."

"I'm sorry Henriette." Whispered Fleur. "I – I didn't… understand." The older girl seemed on the verge of crying.

"Can you reverse it?" Hermione went on, ignoring her, "Can you make them remember me again?"

"Why ever would we want to do that?" Asked Apolline, with what sounded like honest curiousity.

"I want to go back!" Shouted Hermione, standing from the table. "I want to go back right now! Take me back!"

"Henriette!" Apolline looked in shock. "My daughter, what's wrong? Please, you must calm down! Let us talk rationally about this."

"Rationally? Nothing is rational about this! No! I won't calm down! I want you to take me home!"

"Honey, bring a Calming Draught." Augustin said to his wife in a low voice. She hurried from the table.

"What? No! I won't drink it!" Hermione started to cry. Fleur seemed frozen in place, perhaps in fear.

"Henriette." The man of the house stood. Though he was short for a man his age, he loomed over Hermione and Fleur. "You will drink the potion. It will help you."

"No! I'll not!"

Augustin had a sad look on his face. Like real misunderstanding, which threw Hermione for a loop all over again.

"Please." He said gently. "My daughter." Fleur shivered. "_Petrificus Totalus." _

Hermione's arms snapped to her sides, her legs together, unable to move or speak. She fell back against her chair. Fleur gasped, but did not make a move. She had not even seen him draw his wand.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice calm, so fatherly, disturbing. "Henriette. I don't understand your distress. I love you and your sister and you mother so much. We are a family. You don't need to worry about anything. Here." He said, "You don't even need to be awake for this. _Somnum Placide._"

He made a motion with his wand and Hermione fell into a deep sleep, her limbs relaxing. Fleur finally found her voice, but only enough for one word.

"Father…"

He smiled at her, a gentle, sweet thing, and used the same spell.

Many hours later Henriette Delacour woke up refreshed and relaxed, but feeling a little disconcerted. For the life of her, she could not remember what she had done last night. Ah, well. Such was not important. She had only recently been reunited with her dear father, mother, and sister after living a horrible life on the streets, all alone. Everything was perfect in her life now. She slipped out of her bed and crossed the room, so she could get ready for the day with Fleur.

Incidentally, Fleur Delacour woke up refreshed and relaxed, but feeling a little disconcerted. For the life of her, she could not remember what she had done last night. Ah, well. Such was not important. She had only recently been reunited with her dear sister. It was morning now. Fleur rose from her bed. She picked a favorite ribbon and met her precious sister so she could tie her bushy brown hair. Everything in her life was perfect.

And Henriette would meet Grand-mére tomorrow.


End file.
